Why He Shouldn't Have Waited
by keikopanda102
Summary: Haku reminisces about his usefulness to Zabuza. It reminds him of a memory of the first time he was allowed to touch his master... Lemon, Shota, yada-yada. I'm really late for this pairing, and I'm not sure who's gonna read this, but oh well!
1. Part 1

**Why He Shouldn't Have Waited**

**A story from Haku's point of view about a time when Zabuza showed surprising kindness to him. Some(okay a lot) of shota, pedo stuff going on. Oh, and some beautiful descriptions of Zabuza's junk! XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own, although I don't even think Kishi would care that I used his dead characters... **

My master was never as cruel as many thought him to be. It was true that he used me as a tool, a living weapon, and nothing more. He was coarse, and rough, like the blade of a very old knife that has seen too many days, and desperately needs to be sharpened. But, my Lord Zabuza did not need to be sharpened, because he liked his rough edges, for they caused him to be much more painful to those he would turn his blade against.

And yet, as viciously evil as he proved himself to be time and time again, he never _truly_ turned his blade against me. He loved to hurt me, with his hand and with his words, it seemed to bring him much joy. I endured it, dutifully, like any good tool would. Eventually, I even grew fond of his harsh tone and the sting of his palm. They comforted me, reminded me that Zabuza still had use for me, if only to appease his boredom from time to time. If he had ever ignored me, then that would cause me pain that was unimaginable, ferocious! No, his anger and his scorn were far more desirable than his apathy, which would have made me crumble away to the nothing that I really am.

Zabuza was the kindest to me in one respect, particularly. He even waited, unfortunately for me, until I was ten years old before he decided it was time for me to be of use to him a different way than I had been before.

I remember wondering why he did not use me instead of filthy women to satisfy himself in bed. I would always listen on the other side of the paper doors as he ravished them, their gleeful screams sending nothing but a strong dislike for women through my young and impressionable body. It was him that I wanted, why would he ignore his loyal tool just for this type of pleasure? Staring at myself in mirrors of ice as I practiced new techniques to further serve his every wish, I saw a body I could use to appease him in the bedroom, but he never commanded me to try such a thing, and I knew better than to attempt some sort of seduction. I was tempted many times, when I watched him bathe, his glistening muscles just aching for me to touch, his virile manhood ready to take me if he so desired. I wanted nothing more than to make it mine, just as I wanted him to make me his, I wanted to become even more of his possession, I wanted him to own me even deeper than he already did.

When I turned ten, an event which I thought would go unnoticed by my Master, Zabuza called upon me into his room. Expecting orders to do with using my talent of spying or other such means,I was caught off guard when I entered and saw him wearing nothing but a towel. It was just after he had finished his bath, so I ignored it, until he said to me in his manly growl,

"Strip."

I could barely stop my heart from bursting out of my chest at his words, for a moment I was so dazed I nearly forgot to follow his order. After a sharp glance I regained my composure, my beating heart still continuing to race faster than I'd ever felt it before. I slowly removed all of my clothing and stood in the cold room, barely anticipating what would come next. He just stared at me, the most unreadable expression in his cold eyes, until finally he spoke in a soft grunt,

"I wanted to wait for you to grow a bit more, but it seems like you're going to stay as thin as a little girl. I don't want to wait anymore, but it's going to hurt. Maybe even too much for a tool as obedient as you."

He almost said it like a question, and I wondered, still young as I was, what I could do to show my worthiness as a tool to even assist him with his pleasure. While racking my brain to think of some way to show him my dedication, he stood up from his seat on the bed. With one quick movement he threw aside the towel he was covering himself with and stepped closer to me. With his monstrous height and my general petiteness, I was almost standing face to face with what I desired most. Trying desperately to keep any offending look off my face, I lifted my head to look into his eyes.

"You can start by doing this, can't you?"

Working to keep my breathing steady was the hardest part. Bringing my hands up, I tentatively held the steadily growing warmth between my fingers. Just the sensation of my master's pulsing flesh sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but whimper as my own arousal grew from the feel of my master's generous length, so strong and firm, in my tiny childlike palms. I thought I was going to cry, or stop breathing, I was shaking so much I'm surprised he didn't hit me for it. I closed my eyes, hoping he would wait for me to calm down before giving up on me and running off to find some woman again.

Then, just the thought of another girl in the same position I was in, ready to serve him in any way he commanded, got me under control. I would not let my master use another tool, I would be the only one he would ever need, I could do anything he asked of me, that was my one job, it was all I was good for. It was my life.

With a new conviction that burned in me even hotter than my desire for him, I opened my eyes and saw my hands wrapped around his still only half-hard member. I knew what I had to do. I slowly moved my hands up and down his length, from the first movement he grunted his approval, it seemed he had been waiting for me, and I grew more confident. As his desire grew, so did mine, but now it was under control, because I knew it was my duty not to fail him, not to ruin the beautiful opportunity I had before me.

As if moving on their own, my hands knew exactly what to do to make my master feel good. My breathe was coming in rasps as I held my face ever closer to his manhood. It was like it was drawing me in, controlling my body making it feel strange, obscene, things. Before long my mouth began to water and, knowing nothing of what I was doing, and not wanting to anger Zabuza, I held back. That is, until Zabuza grew moist too, and my hunger tripled to the point where I could no longer resist. I sprung forward, unthinking, and wrapped my mouth around his rigid member, desperate to satisfy my craving. He was surprised at my sudden action, flinching slightly as my lips cradled him softly, treasuring the taste of his skin on my tongue.

I carefully restrained myself for fear of choking if I became to enthusiastic. Zabuza did the same, not thrusting down my throat(although I wouldn't have complained if he had), and never commanding me to do anything but what I was already busy doing. When he put his big, warm hand in my hair though, I almost lost it.

It was the most fragile gesture he had ever made towards me. His hands, with which he held his sword so strong, was gently stroking my hair, as if to calm me down. Unfortunately, it had to opposite effect. I was already having difficulty restraining my own raging erection that I had because of the thrill of finally being able to give my master solace, and serve him in a new way, that when he showed such kindness to me, as if my hair could feel the pleasure from his fingertips, I was so hot I felt I would burst.

I drove my mouth further along his length, swallowing it as far as a ten year old could and riding my tongue along the tip, sucking in every sense I could, from his salty taste to his watery smell, much like the sea breeze. My sudden deep-throat movement surprised him and he removed his hand, thinking that was the cause. When the warmth on top of my head was removed I let slip a hum of disapproval. I was the one who was surprised next, when my slight hum made my master grab a hold of my hair again, but not gently this time. He threw me back, both of us breathing heavily, I on the floor with a still untouched hardness, and him standing, holding his head in his hand as if he had a headache.

"Zabu-?" I began to ask, not daring to move from the floor.

"Shut up!" he spat, lowering his hand from his face. He glanced at me for a moment, then jerked his head towards the bed, adding, "Lay down on there."

I did as he commanded, instantly crawling onto the pale blue sheets and laying on my back, wondering what he would do to me now, and anticipating every second of it. He just stared at me for a few moments from where he was, then he leaned over me, and placed his mouth on mine in a very quick kiss. I was so shocked I barely even noticed what he did next, until I felt something wet and warm hit my face, and saw him stand back up, staring off into the distance as he muttered,

"Take care of yourself."

I glanced down at myself, finally noticing a painful ache between my legs. I laid back on the sheets, closing my eyes as disappointment settled like acid in my stomach.

"Yes, Zabuzu-san."

I don't think he noticed the tears that I could not stop from leaking out as I frantically stroked myself, spurred only by the leftover smell on the sheet from my master, the taste of his cum on my mouth, and the lingering feeling of his warmth between my lips.

It was a few years before Zabuza ever went any farther with me. He said that the me that was still a child would not have been able to handle going all the way at that time, but he was wrong.

If only he had let his heat fill me up from the inside at that time, we could have had many more years together in which I showed him my true dedication, my true usefulness. Zabuza never used women after that incident, and he repeated similar acts like the first one. But, I was already fourteen by the time he agreed to enter me, and fifteen the day that I died.

**Erm... this is depressing, but just imagine they have endless, hot, amazing sex in heaven after they both go there together when they die! Now, doesn't that make you feel better? XD**

**I know this is a super old pairing, and I'm not expecting a whole lot of feedback on this, but if you read, it'd be nice if you could review as well. ^_^**

**KeikoPanda102**


	2. Part 2

**So... I DID NOT think I would be doing a second chapter of this but... here we go... XD**

As if being a sexually frustrated child wasn't bad enough, when I reached my teen years I felt my mind and body slipping down a dark slope towards a version of myself that was almost unrecognizable due to my seemingly desperate lust. As a child, my emotions were clouded and biased. Of course I would fall in love with my one and only master! He was all I had, the only bit of happiness that made me rise in the morning instead of sinking into an apathetic slumber. It was almost inescapable that he would be my chosen partner, the one whom I would dream about as I fell asleep in the darkness, dreams of his gentle hands holding me as if I were something precious.

Of course, I knew these dreams were just that; dreams. They held no place in my reality, a reality where I was lucky to go a day without upsetting my masters delicate balance. I did not resent him for it, on the contrary, it made me fall even deeper in love with him. Thinking back, I was a bit of a masochist. Not long after he first introduced me as his new tool of choice for pleasuring himself, he stopped hitting my face when he was angry. I noticed that he liked to grab a hold of my hair and throw me like a rag-doll across the floor. So, I grew my hair out for him, making sure to keep it soft and untangled, hoping that perhaps he would one day run his hands threw it out of love, not anger. His aversion to hitting my face also made me realize that I must do everything I could to keep his desire for me persistent. I'd always had naturally clear skin, but now I made sure to wash my face as often as I could, and to keep my lips moist as to continue giving him the most pleasure possible.

He seemed not to notice these things, but he never said a word against it, so I was happy to keep up my healthy routine in the least to assure myself that I was not disappointing him in the bedroom. The older I grew, the more that seemed to matter to me. The hunger I thought could never become more than it was when I first got to touch him, grew unimaginably. I anticipated the nights when he would call me into his room with bated breath, my lust becoming something much more intense every time he had me swallow him, giving me nothing in return.

I remember one night in particular when I found the bubbling desires I held for him reach their boiling point. I was but fourteen, but my mind had long surpassed my body in maturity. I could understand and feel things that no other fourteen years old could, Zabuza had taught me to be able to do so. I do not think he realized the repercussions of keeping my chaste for so long until that night, the night I couldn't hold back any longer.

Over the years I had grown to be able to relate with Zabuza in an almost normal way. I still revered him as my savior, and allowed him to use me as a tool, but I said and did things that I would not have even dreamt of saying or doing as a child. My confidence in my usefulness had grown just as my skills and body had, and I was less afraid to take action against him. Beyond my own growth, I knew that Zabuza had grown accustomed to me as well, treating my newly found confidence as a result of his precarious training. There were times, rare though they were, when I thought for a moment that he respected me, even wanted me, but I tried not to let those moments go to my head. We lived rather peacefully, we understood each other almost perfectly. Sometimes I would know what he wanted me to do before he even said it. He, on the other hand, knew little of the way I really felt, the way I surged with an unnamable feeling as I was curled into a frenzied ball in my bed after 'servicing' him at night, whispering his name as I stroked myself with a fierce ardency.

I was only a teenage boy; no matter how I'd been raised, what I'd been through, or even how I looked, I couldn't help my frustrated feelings for him no matter how I tried. And that is how they built up slowly inside me, only to be released in a fit of passion on _that day_.

I was already to the point of humming softly around my master's length, his manhood growing nearer every second, when my own desires swiftly began taking over the forefront of my mind, erasing everything but his scent and his taste. As I removed my mouth to slide my tongue along the underside of his shaft, I glanced up at his broad chest, and to his chiseled jaw. It was clenched in what looked like pain and his eyes were closed. My heart beat faster the more pleasure I gave him, as if I were the one getting blown, and not the one on my knees. I loved the feeling I got when I knew he was close, it was like a reward for all my dedication and love when he finally came. I closed my eyes along with his, took his manhood deep inside my mouth(I could go much deeper now that I could when I was young and inexperienced), sucking in as hard I could until I heard him groan, louder than usual, and release inside my warm, tight mouth.

I removed him from between my lips, and, before I could stop myself, licked the cum-covered tip clean. He pushed me back after my added service and gave me a strange look.

That look was all it took for me to lose the little bit of restraint I had left and step into dangerous waters, all for him.

I stood up to my feet, and shakily walked over to the bed. He cautiously watched me from the corner of his eyes, narrowing them in curiosity at my strange actions.

Without thinking, without planning, but not without plenty of reason, I laid down on the bed, staring intently at him for what seemed like longer than I ever had before, then dropped my gaze to my own erection. I don't know if he followed my gaze, but something tells me he did not, intent on staring straight into my face as I acted out my desires to him on his very own bed.

Slowly, purposefully, I slid my fingers up my thin chest and neck, stopping only when I reached my moist lips. Letting them part slightly, two fingers entered, slipping easily inside the wet skin. Inside, the two digits were covered with the strangely sweet, sticky cum from my master and my own saliva. As I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensual feeling of my own fingers and the taste that I had deliberately held just inside my mouth, taking careful measure not to swallow it all, my other hand fell to my thighs. I teased myself, painfully aware of my master's steady gaze that I knew would still be settled directly on me, by inching ever closer to my raging erection without venturing to touch it. I spread my legs, rubbing the soft skin that surrounded the one thing that proved I was indeed a man. As if I had forgotten I was the touching myself, I whimpered and moaned when my other hand finally made contact with the burning flesh of my already dripping member.

I opened my eyes just as I slowly removed the now thoroughly moist fingers from my glistening mouth. A trail of cum and saliva followed from my fingertips as I stared defiantly, passionately, at Zabuza. His eyes seemed to glow like a true demon's from the darker corner of the room where he now stared un-movingly at my preemptive show. His passive face made my breath catch and my heart lurch, just as it always had. Although I know my chest was rising and falling rapidly, I tried to remain as calm as I could under his unabashed gaze, desperate to show my dedication in my next action.

I led the moist fingers from my now panting mouth and down my body, ending at the pink hole he had never once tried to touch. With what felt like only momentary resistance, I slid just one of the fingers inside, my pulse jumping as I did. I dared not look up into his watching face again, for the chance I would lose control completely and the whole thing be meaningless. In and out I pushed the finger, quickly adjusting to it's size and adding the second. With my other hand to pull apart my legs even further, I let myself pound inside my own hole, rapidly loosing my sense as the feeling of being filled coursed through my body like lightning. I curled my fingers and jolted forwards, arching my back and almost cumming right then. My other hand returned to stroking my length and my breathing and movements became unsteady, jolty, and sporadic. Then, as if it was the last thing I would ever say in my life, I called out un-shamefully,

"ZABUZA-SAN!"

"Stop."

I almost, for a millisecond, wanted and thought of disobeying my lord, but as the shrill of silence fell after his command, I knew I could never disobey him. My breathing was still heavy as I removed my fingers and my hand, and I cringed when my length throbbed from the sudden lack of contact. I sat up straight on the edge of my bed, awaiting my master's next instruction.

He was sitting, with his fingers intwined and his head resting on his hands, on a simple, no-armed chair on the other side of the room, not 5 feet away from where I was. He seemed as if he was brooding very deeply on something, then he looked up, sending a cascade of shivers down my shine with his surveying eyes, and said,

"You aren't a kid anymore, are you, my faithful weapon?"

I gave no reply, waiting for more, something, anything more. He exhaled deeply then wiggled a finger at me, and smirkingly commanded,

"Here."

I tried not to let my shock cause me to stumble as I made my way from the bed to the place where my master sat, smiling at me with hungry eyes that made my blood turn to the coldest ice, where it's so cold, it becomes torturously hot. When I reached him I stopped cautiously and waited for his permission to touch him. He just ran a finger up my side, teasing me more than I thought I could take.

Then, he made it all seem like nothing, like I hadn't been seconds away from coming only a moment before, like I hadn't had years of built up passion before now, like I hadn't waited years just for the attention he was showing me now. No, he pushed all of that aside, and somehow topped it all with a few swift movements.

He lifted me up by my waist, his strong hands gripping me tightly as he lowered my onto his lap, bending my knees behind me and arching my back in surprise. He then wrapped my all-too-willing arms around his neck as he positioned my previously spread hole just above his re-hard manhood. It had finally come to the point where I couldn't breath at all, my anticipation of this moment was too great.

Then, without warning, he lowered me onto his rod, pushing it all the way in as I winced from pain and something much more pleasant; contentment. As I felt his hard, strong man-ness fill me up inside, it was as if my life was complete. He lifted me up once more then thrust into me harder.

"Hah!" I cried, my voice and breath returning as desire overcame me once again. Now that he was finally, completely inside me, now that we had overcome that last obstacle for me to be of full service to him, completely satisfying him in every way, and somehow becoming satisfied myself as well, I knew I could let myself go as he pounded into me over and over again.

But he didn't. Each thrust was hard, and deep, but they were not fervid, coming fast, one after the other so I couldn't even move by myself. The thrusts were slow, and steady, and somehow even more passionate than a wold embrace would been. I wasn't sure if he was simply tired, or if there was more to his soft movements.

Then, as he thrust again, this time hitting that sweet spot inside and making me gasp as a new wave of pleasure crashed over me, I felt the gentlest touch of his fingertips against my cheek. I opened my eyes, panting heavily and waiting for the next attack, and I found him staring at me as though he was very deep in thought, a very pleasant thought, too, from the smile his sharp teeth were arranged in.

That was when I realized... _he was staring at me_! As flushed as my face must have already been, I could have sworn that it grew warmer under his usually cold, but now surprisingly smiling, eyes.

I felt his hand brush my cheek again, then move to slide through my hair, touching it ever so gently. His eyes held something nostalgic in them as he whispered in my ear roughly,

"My most beautiful, faithful weapon. My... _Haku_."

Again, he left me breathless. I thought I had died momentarily after he spoke such sweet words to me, touching my hair that I had grown out just for him with his suddenly soft fingers.

The next second, he pushed the chair away from under us and as I remained, clinging with my arms around his strong neck, he ravaged me until daybreak.

I don't know how many times I came that night, they had become a blur as the morning light crept into the windows, but I know that when the night had ended, I was not just another tool to Zabuza, not just another weapon for him to use at his will.

No, I was much more than that. I was his most beautiful, and faithful weapon. And, although he didn't say it, I was his most important weapon as well.

After that night, we only had sex a few more times before we died, but, every time, he wouldn't stop until the sun began to rise. It was as if he were making up for lost time, regretting that he'd waited so long to join our bodies together.

I thought that I would regret it too, but all my fears vanished the moment I saw him smiling as a never ending light lit up his face, and he stopped in front of me to slowly reach up and slide his hand through the soft hair that I grew out... just for him.

**Well that's a nice heaven-y ending now isn't it? Better than the last one I should say. **

**That's it though. I'm like, not gonna write anymore of this. I don't have any more left in me. **

**KeikoPanda102**


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